‘Le temps se passe vite, hein?’ – LALALALA I can’t HEAR YOU !

   Yes, thank you wise older people, I know that time flies. But in this odd little limbo between paradise island and home-sweet-home, it’s nice to just forget about that. I’ve been flitting around here and there on various outings over the last few weeks, but there are still a few things on that list that need crossing off. So I’ll cross my fingers and hope I can do as much of it possible!
 
   ‘Ouais mais... c’est pas le paradis ici’ – You’re right, lady. What a sh*thole...

    And then we proceeded to jump off a boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean to swim with bottlenose dolphins. That’s right – somebody actually slated La Réunion by saying it wasn’t a paradise island. This was a lady from Corsica who came with us on (my second) dolphin-swimming trip. Apparently this island is too chaotic, what with the (incredible) volcano and the (breathtakingly beautiful) mountains. I felt like donning a pineapple hat, a coconut bikini top and a grass skirt, whilst Maloya dancing and pointing to the incredible view we had from out at sea of the whole island, just to make a point. Might have thrown some samoussas fromages at her too, just for the jokes like.
  Anyway, so the dolphin trip second time around was, of course, cool. I wasn’t half as scared this time, as I had my own equipment and I knew how everything was going to work. Sadly, the only pod we could find was surrounded by a dozen or so tourist boats, so the experience didn’t feel quite as ‘natural’ as the last time. But still. Dolphins, about 2 metres in front of me. Sa-weet. We went on to go and practise free-diving, when the instructor said after being in the water for a good five minutes, ‘Oh yeah, these look like perfect conditions for sharks, we’d probably better get out’. But you know, I survived a jellyfish sting that day; I figured that luck was on our side.

La Chapelle  - An enlightening experience
     A huge canyon consisting of two 100m tall rock faces, La Chapelle was on my hit-list of things-to-do-before-I-leave-La-Réunion. Just look at the photo.
     On the way back we took a taxi from the bus station ... I saw a dude in a taxi playing some non-descript melodies on a little keyboard he’d propped up on the dashboard. I thought it would be fun to try out something a bit c-c-c-crazy so we went with him. He was a dance teacher, he said, who taught chacha and other ballroom styles. And he swerved along the entire journey. You err... you would have had to have been there.

‘Yeah,yeah, it’s like the BIGGEST festival in Reunion!’ – Sakifo 2012
     And wasn’t it just the moochiest goochiest baloochiest little ‘biggest’ festival you ever did see?  It was an adorable little event, had nothing on good old Godiva I have to say, but we enjoyed/endured a whole lotta Reunionese séga music (that’s reggae on amphetamines for those unaware). The highlight was Chinese Man, a slightly over-hyped but nonetheless fairly good electronic music group. Check ‘em out and ting.

Ahh Mafate. We’ll meet again!
     My fourth and probably final (for a while) time at Mafate was a delight. We basically did the same route as when I went for my birthday, but more chilled so we could just take in the views and camp in the valley of the Rivière des Galets. Though these gargantuan mountains don’t seem as ridiculous to me as when I was first exploring the island all those months ago, I still adore being right in there amongst the beauty of such untouched natural surroundings. I’m going to miss that a lot.

In other news ...

I am going to stay with a magician tomorrow as a couchsurfer. Cool.

Next stop ... Madagascar!
  Says it all, really. I probably won’t be able to update after that until I get home.

Ciao. 

‘Oté La Rényon, mi inm aou!’ – Homecoming looms, but the adventure continues.

    So I’ve finally bought my flighty back to Blighty, and though I of course miss family, friends and flapjacks, thinking of leaving this place breaks my heart. So it’s time to pack in as much as possible, and I’ve made a good start over the last few weeks, with a mixed bag of adventures and challenges.
  I’ll also be heading to Madagascar at the end of June, which is terribly exciting! ‘The Seventh Continent’ awaits, and I’ll be looking mostly to discover the natural side of La Grande Ile.
     Right. Here’s the lowdown mofos.

Exams at the University of We-So-High-We-Don’t-Know-What’s-Goin’-Awn
  I was of course referring to the professors here. Goodness, what a fun experience it has been! We turned up for one exam, and the teacher was an hour late. Oops! Then for another, around seventy people turned up and when the teacher arrived, she denied ever having set the exam for that date. Coming back to the professionalism of Sussex is going to be SUCH a shock, but perhaps a refreshing smack in the face from the lack of any academic effort we’ve had to put in this year.

Paaart-aaaay – Let’s hit the beach

  So there was a beach party and I drank a lot. Though it was a combination of FRENCH cider and FRENCH red wine, therefore it’s ‘cultural’ and sophisticated. Cool story, dude.

‘Soooo-phie! Qu’est-ce que t’as fait maintenant?!’ – An interesting weekend in the South

  The moral of the story is, don’t put your faith in someone who can barely organise herself, let alone a whole weekend for 3 other people. OOPS. So I kind of messed up a fair few things for a last minute road trip to the Sud Sauvage (thought I’d hired a car when I didn’t, forgot tent poles etc.). Apart from the freezing rain on the volcano, which we didn’t see in the end, the rain in the South, and the rain in general, we saw a few cool waterfalls in the East, with wild rocky coasts and fluorescent blue waves crashing around jagged cliffs, and cooking marshmallows on the steaming lava flows was a particular highlight. The lava flows from the most recent eruptions are still smokin’ hot, and were comforting in the Wild South drizzle. Next time, we shall check the weather and indeed not make me the dirigeuse.

‘Lé pa moin ki koz, lé le chien’ – Logical musings of a surrealist artist
  I mentioned a while back the artist who has been at the University theatre of the last couple of months, putting on various exhibitions and little shows. Many a nonsensical word hath spouted from his mouth, and when I asked him why his name had evolved from ‘Pink Floyd’ to ‘Floyd Dog’, his answer was exactly this: ‘Because it’s not me that talks, it’s the dog’.  Now that’s art.
  So the same conversation led to an interesting proposal; he asked if I could sing, and I said well, yes. It had been almost 4 years since I’d been on stage singing, and every time before I had been extremely nervous. But, I enjoy watching the consequences unfold when I dare myself to do things, so I agreed to sing in the kabar (variety concert) that he was organising. He played me one of his songs that he wanted me to sing. Oh, that’s pretty, I said, but what language is that? Oh, you invented it yourself? Ok. Cool. Down with that.

    I practised a bit and on the day of the performance we had a little rehearsal. What’s that Floyd, the accompanying musicians aren’t coming anymore? What what? I have to sing A Cappella and improvise at the same time? Oh. Ok. Cool. Totally not down with that, but if you say so.
     I went through with it in the end for the pure hilarity, and actually wasn’t so nervous. No big errors, threw in a few chest-register belters and a couple of dancing-around-the-note tricks. It was, as they say, jokes mate.

‘Sophie, ‘av you got zee zen?’ – ‘Then ... then, what?’ – ‘Non, non, ZEN, aie aie ces anglais!’ – Tai Chi for So-Phie
     Ok that was a cheap shot. But yeah, another dare-myself experience was that of the Tai Chi performance, that was a part of the University end-of-year show at the biggest theatre on the island. After many hours of very similar Tai Chi routines, we were ready for our small part of the show which turned out to last 4 and a half hours in total. Oops! Good peaceful fun nonetheless.

An alternative 21^st birthday – Let’s go to the mountains!

     Why would I have had just an ordinary soirée for my 21^st when I happen to be on an island where you can hike to the middle of a tropical rainforest-covered crater and watch breathtaking sunsets merge into the most incredible stars you could ever see? So I chose to head to the mountains with a particular compatriot to enjoy just that, and have a ‘party for my eyes’ as I like to say (with so many purely beautiful things to see!). Descending from the mighty Maido, which looks out over the whole of the Cirque de Mafate, over ravines, up through dense untouched forests, passing îlets perched on top of plateaus with panoramic views – our destination was Cayenne, where a friendly but quite clearly high/drunk Créole dude fed us good food, watered down with home-made rhum arrangé, danced off to some séga music and wrapped up with some flambéed banana. Swee-eet. The next day was also a joy; swimming in freshwater rivers and waterfall plunge pools, and yet more WOWCOOL views. It came, however, at the price of not being particularly glamorous and having rather achey legs. In a nutshell, ow but wow.

What next?

  I dunno. We’ll see.

Peace, love and bananas.

  Sophie

'Et ENFIN!' - Long time no write

Well. It’s been a while.

And time’s-a-ticking on Paradise Island. Whilst last term was jam-packed full of incredible adventures, new experiences and great achievements, I have to say that this term has been much slower in pace and I’m regretting resting on my laurels. That said, there is still time, and I have been up to a few things here and there in the meantime.

‘Oté, lé zoli zoli mem a Mafat!’ – A mighty hike in the Wild Cirque

   Golly, this must have been over a month ago! A three-and-a-half day hike on my second trip to the Cirque de Mafate started by one group member being late, and thus the traversing of a (sometimes thigh deep) river slightly aided by the light of flimsy little torches for around two hours. Needless to say we had wet boots for the whole weekend. The morning after saw a steep trudge in the searing heat up to a bright and colourful îlet where we camped overnight, waking to see a stunning sunrise over the jagged-edged mountains. Nice. Many trudges later, we’d gone to La Nouvelle, the ‘capital’ of road-less Mafate, nestled in a passing cloud that created an eerie little village with giant spider webs frosted with water droplets. The next day we were off to the lush green valley of the îlet of Marla, up a big ol’ mountain then down Col du Taibit to the Cirque de Cilaos. It’s all names of places and ting, but the pictures say it all. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

‘Maman, ou koz pa kréol, fé pa semblan’ – When the Hadlums came to town

  A couple of weeks ago, the Mum and the Matt came to visit the island. As a 24/7 translator and organiser, it was hard work, but in the end we got to see a good few places on the island and a snippet of the best it has to offer. From snorkelling around the teeming coral reefs of La Saline-les-bains and walking around Cilaos to see breath-taking views (well, for newcomers, of course) and tumbling waterfalls, to dolphin-watching and lava field from-the-coach admiration, we tried to fit in whatever was possible with the short time they spent here. Apart from my Mum trying to flag down an ambulance as a taxi when we got stranded in the South, and me trying not to translate what the nice Créole couple at the gîte in Cilaos were saying about sharks and Dengue fever in La Réunion (“No, Mum, he said sharks off this coast are vegetarian”), it was a good ol’ time. It’s kind of cool to show people around somewhere that you have some knowledge about too.

Other ting (never under-appreciate the effort of writing a blog)

  So my usual punny, eloquent and stylistic self has become a lazy old blogger ; I shall summarise with bullet-points of other goings-on:

-        -  At the University Theatre there has been an artist called Pink Floyd who has been doing exhibitions and performances for a couple of months on campus. I’ve met him and he lives up to his standards of being slightly off-the-wall and going off on the steepest tangents I’ve ever known, but all at the same time sharing his varied snippets of wisdom and knowledge. One of his exhibitions is supposed to include him lying down on a bed in a paddling pool somewhere on campus for the day. Yeah, I don’t know why either, but what’re you gonna do. That’s art!

-       -   I was asked to do a professional translation for one of the university professors recently; it consisted of an academic article about sports tourism in La Réunion. And by Jimmy was it difficult. I should FINALLY be out swimming with the dolphins next week, if all goes to plan. The documentary has officially been sent to a film festival in Tehran, and some other places that I can’t remember. It’ll be interesting to see how the research project has developed in any case.

-   - Last Saturday we went to go and see the Tamil New Year celebrations in Saint André. Except we didn't see a lot because, being the East coast, it rained. There's a little photo shown though of the triumphantly determined members of the parade that came into Saine Suzanne despite the downpour.

-       -   I got back from a weekend at the Forêt Bélouve today; a steep but short hike up from Salazie up to the tropical rainforest plains stretching for miles (oh, sorry Frenchies, I mean kilometres), the most dense wilderness you can imagine rolling over gentle hills then grasping onto sheer-faced mountains. Due to rain-mania this morning, it was a soggy little walk around the forest today, but yesterday I enjoyed a WOW sunset (pfft, who needs fancy adjectives?) and the most WOW stars I’ve ever seen in my life. The lack of light pollution means you can see everything in the night sky as clear as day, or night, or whatever – imagine even being able to see clouds of stars that form our galaxy. Yeah.
- I've seen three chameleons now. YEAH.

C’est tout pour l'instant de la petite Sophie paresseuse – next time, you can have more jokes, puns and anecdotes; I know my standards are slipping but it’ll come back to me.

Dorr for now-now,

Sophie (who else would it be?)
 

‘Ooh, il fait chaud, hein?’ – Watch as Sophie turns into La Petite Anglaise Fondue.

38⁰C. Most days. In the shade. We’re melting. Everything. Slows. Down.
   (Is that a good enough excuse for not having been to many lessons lately?)
   Although I’m badly missing the mountains and the beauty at the heart of the island, I’ve been up to a few mildly interesting activities over the last few weeks. In the stifling heat, I have adopted an island attitude of a slightly blazé ‘hmm, I’ll do it, eventually’, and I’m eating pineapple and picked-up-fresh-off-the-ground mango for breakfast.  Now that’s what I call cultural integration.

   As the island heats up, let me give you the lowdown of what’s been happening.

I Predict A Riot
    Temperatures soar and tensions rise; this has been a turbulent week on the island.  After days of protests from motorists about petrol prices, riots started kicking off on Mardi Gras last week in Le Chaudron, the area where the university is. In an apparent protest against high living costs and unemployment, the first night saw petrol bombs all over the area. Helicopters with search lights sprayed tear gas over entire streets.The main supermarket was trashed by mostly young men who were absolutely trolleyed. (Speculation is perfectly acceptable for necessary puns).
     In all seriousness, it was a frightening time. From campus, one could hear bombs exploding all over Le Chaudron; it was like a bonfire night that left a bitter taste in your mouth and made your heart sink as with every boom you knew that some part of this already deprived community had been destroyed. From my balcony I watched as men with scarf-covered faces climbed over the campus gates and proceeded to set alight a few dozen cars and generally be really cool awesome guys with a logical agenda. It was even better that they chose the targets of Le Centre Social and Le Case du Chaudron; two community projects which host local events and house sports equipment for kids’ activities, burnt into melted wrecks.  Wonderful, bravo, magnifique. If I could be any more sarcastic, I think I would explode myself.

      Life is expensive here. Unemployment is at a staggering 40%. The worst affected area is Le Chaudron. Young, bored, testosterone-fuelled men in a hot country with a general macho-gangster youth culture. What may have started as a misguided protest turned into a game. While the rioters spoke of ‘ La Révolution’ like they were heroes for blowing up a community centre, it seems hard to see past the mindless destruction. But this is an ignored generation. Without the decent jobs available, without the education and training required to obtain these jobs (which are so frequently taken by the Métropolitain French), it seems a hopeless situation. This small island needs the investment from France, its creator, to provide the dignified jobs that can give people the opportunity to earn more than the welfare benefits and to be able to contribute to the multiplier effect that can then increase public spending to improve areas like Le Chaudron. The benefits here are a lifeline; people would literally die without them, and it is essential that they are kept in place. But many of the rioters said themselves that they feel abandoned and hopeless without any provision of work.  Public services, renewable energy, small grassroots businesses ... anything but new huge French supermarkets or Coca-Cola would be a welcome employer on the island.

   

    The riots lasted several days and spread to many different towns across La Réunion. After some peaceful protests too, La Préfecture lowered the price of petrol by 8 cents (a compromise on the demanded 25 cents).  60 food products are also going to have their prices reduced in the coming weeks; an unusual response to a protest in that at least something is actually being done. Everyone hopes that the riots won’t spark up again, as the operation begins to clear up the charred remains of parts of an already challenged community.

Take a look at what was going down in Saint Denis town:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=60a9HhXmY_s&feature=related

Et quoi d’autre ?

   I’m not gonna lie, I haven’t had the most successful weeks recently in terms of randonnées and adventures. But I’ve been setting up the semester for more tings-ta-do, such as working for the Abyss Association who have given me yet more translation work to do (I work, you give me dolphins, deal). We got the final editing done to the documentary, which was seen by the New York Times journalist who is going to help sending it to film festivals in the States and possibly South Africa too. I’ve been doing odd jobs for the university theatre. I got interviewed for a Réunion magazine about student life, so I’m going to be famous, again. I’ve been to Tai Chi. I’m going to be working in primary schools teaching English to kids. It’s all falling into place!

  Best wishes,

  Sophie

Retour à La Réunion – Let The Second Semester Commence

   After a wonderful few weeks back in Britain, I (hesitantly) made the long journey back to the island. In a way I’d become so used to the more liberal English youth culture that coming back was a bit of a shock again – a rediscovery, if you will.
   Though disappointed by the lack of lychees on my return, I’ve seen again the beauty of the Secret Island and have had various spontaneous explorations. Seems like an odd sentence? You can’t underestimate the importance of lychees here. This season wasn’t as good as usual, so by the time I got back there were none left, and I’ve had to stick with boring old mango, banana, coconut and passion fruit. BAH.
   

Les Sorties - Making it up as we go along
   As mentioned, I’ve been to a few waterfalls, including Cascade Maniquet, where I braved the freezing cold plunge pool (probably just for the bravado), coming out rather blue/purple. An exploration on the overgrown forest path nearby proved just a bit too wild for my accompanying adventurers and I, and as soon as we heard a loud droning BZZZZZZZZZ bumbling around our heads, we scrambled back to the safety of the remote mountain road on the volcanic island surrounded by shark-infested waters.

  Volca-yes! Spontaneous Second Time Lucky. 
   About an hour before leaving, I decided to latch on to a group of teaching assistants who had hired a car and were off exploring for the weekend.  First camping on the moon/mars-scape of Plaine des Sables, waking up at dawn to go to Piton de la Fournaise – and lo and behold, this time it didn’t rain! I saw the crater in all its glory, and we were lucky to also see some smoky wisps swirling up from the base and the craggy slopes. 
  After that we went to Manapany, a southern seaside village with a lido where one can swim as in the real sea but guaranteed shark-free. Since there were three shark attacks and many more sightings over the holidays when I was away, I’m not too keen on the whole surfing lark and taking that risk. There are other ways to look cool on a tropical island, surely.
   Then there was a beach party on the west coast where a young French woman got up mid-conversation and started ranting about how she couldn’t talk to us because she can’t communicate with non-francophones when their French is so awful, no matter how hard they try. Alors cassez-vous, madame!
   The final day of the weekend saw a swoosh around the Sud Sauvage (The Wild South), sliding down mountain-surrounded mini-waterfalls into refreshing plunge pools, driving through the lava fields which run off into the south coast ... yada yada yada.

Coming soon – Boobz
    For those more observant facebook stalkers (if I have any), you may have noticed that my two jokes of the moment are 1) Newt Gingrich, and 2) The Réunionese rapper called Boobz who’s coming to showcase delights from his new album, ‘Born to Fck’, at the university theatre. One of the songs I’ve heard includes the lyrics ‘then all the women eat all the lychees’. I can’t wait.
  Invited by the people who run the theatre, I participated in what is apparently the favourite Réunion sport – picnicking. A joyous pique-nique in the park led me to trying the French’s equivalent to black pudding, bidouin. Congealed pigs’ blood never tasted better.
  I also went to the first concert of the term, consisting of a very skilled Chinese Erhu player, and a Réunionese smooth jazz band. The former, by himself, played a stunning piece, however when the two were put together ... well let’s just say it made for an interesting mélange. No minor chords and very repetitive never-ending songs ensured a near torture-like experience, except that it was too hilarious to feel bad.

‘Racistes Dehors!’ - Let’s Get Political
     As the French general elections approach, the presidential candidates have been throwing their manifestos and mandates all over the place. Nicolas Sarkozy (did you know he has a net worth of €2 million, and his first move in office was to give himself a pay-rise?) and François Hollande (leader of the French Socialist Party, some interesting ideas on environmental issues) will both be coming to visit in the next few weeks. But this week it was the turn of the rather terrifying Marine Le Pen, leader of the French Nationalist Party (Le Front National). And boy does she have some controversial (and awful, disgusting and racist) ideas. So coming here, to a generally lefty-island, she wasn’t warmly welcomed on her arrival.
    I got to the airport just a few minutes before she arrived, seeing several police vehicles and hearing the enthusiastically furious chants of around sixty protesters.  The various anti-fascist banners and placards blocked the rather pathetic little clan of French-flag bearing FN supporters. The crowd stormed towards Madame Le Pen and her entourage as they shuffled through the sliding doors, passionate anger echoing through the marble-floored entrance to Réunion. The rather unattractive gendarmerie (police) were shoving everyone around, fairly unprovoked, fairly unsurprisingly. But she certainly got the message that she wasn’t welcome here. I only wish I’d gotten there earlier, as there had been a Maloya group playing and everyone was discussing views and ideas. Though comparatively a small congregation, I know there were some larger protests organised for her visit, and it restored my faith in what I’d thought had been a relatively politically-uninterested island.
  

  So bring on whatever lies ahead for this semester ... it’s really just the beginning. (Cheesey).

‘Faut en profiter de la Réunion !’ – That I have done.

    Though over the last few weeks I’ve missed the English charm of the chilly Christmas season, I have been super-busy with various activities, so the idea of crimbo has pretty much passed me by. Except for the icicle-lights hanging from palm trees and other such seasonally-confused décor, it’s obvious that Christmas here isn’t quite so much of a hyper-ventilating oh-my-god-only-fifty-shopping-days-to-go fiasco. And I am DOWN with THAT. As long as one also avoids the bigass French supermarkets and their overload of Christmas visual-screaming, it’s pretty nice to not have the constant reminder there.
    Here’s the lowdown of my last couple of weeks of my first term in la Réunion.

Volca-yes!
     La Réunion is a volcanic island, a mere 3 million years old (oh-who’s-a-little-moochy-goochy!), and two weeks ago we climbed up to the original volcano which formed it, Piton des Neiges, which has long been extinct. However, the other Piton de la Fournaise happens to be one of the most active and  most accessible volcanoes in the world, and a shield volcano with effusive eruptions at that, so it doesn’t pose too much of a threat even when it does erupt. So we were of course eager to get climbing up that hot stuff to get a glimpse!
    To get to ol’ volcy, you have to first cross the Plaine des Sables, a desert-like plain of dusty orange sand. After the trek across the surreal half-Mars, half-mid-West-America landscape, the approach to the volcano was even more impressive. Black lava fields dotted with scraggly shrubs were overshadowed by the mighty Piton itself, a dominating silhouette on the early-morning horizon.
     The hike up to the crater was fascinating; you could still see the lava flows from the most recent eruption in December 2010. I had optimistically bought a big bag of marshmallows to toast on the volcano, but clearly I wasn’t sufficiently informed to know that there’s only a bit of smokin’ hot stuff soon after an eruption and also on the other side of the volcy. Hot damn!
    Alas, when we were about half an hour or so away from the crater, the Heavens opened, and it started raining like Hell. Dommage! The incessant precipitation mocked us as we thought we’d escaped it on our descent, and it just crept back up on us again. Is it because I lied when I was seventeen? I’d put it more down to relief rainfall, but sadly it made us miss the view at the top. Sauf ça, c’était carrément cool!

‘Le Grand Bleu avec rien dessous’ – Wow, wow and wow.      I really did dive in at the deep end this week when I went on a dolphin-watching trip with WWF representatives. The dude who made the documentary was carrying out some research for part of the of-the-minute project; recording dolphin sounds and trying to understand the correlation between sound and behaviour. Essentially trying to translate dolphin ‘language’.
      So we got on the little boat and went out to look for dolphins. After around half an hour, everyone was suddenly signalling to two snorkelers bobbing about in the water. I wondered what on Earth the fuss was about, it’s just two OH NO IT’S TWO BOTTLE-NOSED DOLPHINS SWIMMING TOWARDS THE BOAT WOW!  They apparently like the movement of small boats, so we picked up speed to get them to follow us. At one point there were around ten dolphins swimming right in front of the boat, playing in the waves we were making with our hands.
     But I didn’t just stay on the boat. As the main researcher went to make the recordings, we were allowed to follow him and see the dolphins from under the water. Now, as I am one to be a bit ill-prepared, it took me a bit longer to equip myself and get in the water. This resulted in me being about ten metres away from everyone else. Having seen a lot of David Attenborough’s documentaries, I know full-well that in the animal kingdom, if a predator is chasing after a herd, it will always single out the little weakling lagging behind. So when in shark-infested waters, you can imagine I was a bit ... completely terrified. BUT, don’t worry they said, sharks never come near boats nor near dolphins.

     Seeing the dolphins about fifteen metres away, hearing all their sounds and clicks under the water, that was special.
  

Flying home for Christmas ...       So in just two tiny days I’ll be coming back to ol’ Blighty. Mental. I left in the height of the British Summer, and will be coming back in the darkest depths of winter.

       And what a term it’s been. I was told by many friends and family before coming here to ‘make the most of it’, and even here everyone loves to say ‘il faut en profiter!’. Having the opportunity to come here makes me doubly glad that I chose to continue studying French, and it really reminds you of the joy of opening up new worlds which you could only access if you make the effort to speak the language. I’ve got a long way to go, and it certainly has been hindered by the overload of anglophone Erasmus students, but I’ve tried all I can to break out of the high-school bubble of Université de la Réunion.

    So that concludes term one. I greatly look forward to the next one!
Thanks for reading my blog to those dedicated enough to even still be reading it in its entirety by now. ‘Preciate it y’all!
 

In a bit,

Sophie.